Uncertainty
by missforgall
Summary: just some WoD drabbles. mostly j'hroomale/arbert tbh


_is it worth the price_ _ **?**_

the question that floated in the back of all their minds every waking moment that remained to them. so much was at risk: their home, their families, the balance between light and dark - never mind their own lives. the warriors planned to give their lives for a cause only they could save, regardless of the consequences. light consumed just as much as dark. the comparison between the two was just a misconceptualised cliche - they were equal forces, the title of good or evil simply slapped onto whichever force happened to be the savior or villain of a particular world.

twisted, was what it was.

these thoughts roamed free in a certain bard's mind as she sat, awake, under what could be the last starry sky they would ever see. she would miss the serenity of the night, so unlike her own raging temper hidden behind cool tones with which she threatened. one leg stretches out in front of her, while the other is bent slightly so that she can rest her arm upon her knee without much difficulty. she does not want to think about the sacrifice they will make come morning - no, she does not want to let her thoughts wander into the uncertain. uncertainty breeds fear. fear breeds mistrust, and mistrust...

they all knew how that story ended.

she shakes her head as if to clear it. her hat long since removed, she runs wearied fingers through brunette locks. they do not do much to keep the hair from her face, but she is far too tired to care. a moment of imperfection turned to bliss, all in the sake of an all-nighter.

' j'hroomale? that you? '

she does not have to turn to know who it is that speaks to her, yet she does regardless. seeing arbert brings a certain life to her eyes; noticeable only by those closest to her. emotion is not an easy thing for the bard to show. j'hroomale attempts to smile, at least for him. they are _all_ far too gloomy, even she is not blind to that.

he approaches her as one would a wild animal: with caution and without speed. she watches his every step with hawk's eyes, poised to run at any sudden movement. eventually does he lower himself to the ground next to her, legs crossed. his gaze is intense, and she looks away. he is patient with her, more so than any other partner she's known, but there are walls even he has yet to break down. arbert is aware of the dilemma on her mind - which is most likely why he does not inquire as to her thoughts - and is of the same mind, but it is her who is the first to break the silence.

' i... do not like it, arbert. ' he opens his mouth to most likely lecture her on all that she 'does not understand', yet she raises a hand to silence him. ' do not mistake me, 'tis our best chance. yet i... ' she inhales, lids closing as she succumbs to a peaceful darkness - if only for a moment.

' you are afraid. ' he raises a hand and gently places it upon her shoulder, tracing patterns with his thumb upon her shoulderblade. when she does not flinch, they are both surprised. he could be careful when he so chose, it seemed. ' 'tis nothing new, j'hroomale. we all are. but this... think of how much we can save. we may not lose after all. one night of fear is far more preferable to an eternity of it. ' _and you are not alone_ , he wished to add. as long as it was within his power, he would not leave her side. not for an eternity. his hand snakes its way down to the small of her back, where it rests on her waist. she stiffens, and he immediately loosens his grip, then she relaxes, even leans, into his side.

' just... one night. ' she moves to meet his gaze, her voice soft, unlike her dangerously cool tones that were so characteristic of her. he nods - _of course he would_ \- and allows her to rest her head upon his shoulder, even presses a kiss to the crown of her head. he would protect her at all costs; that is, if she needed it. still was she learning to let her bow do the talking instead of her; to let the arrows whisk by her instead of time; she could defend herself fairly well. but not as well as her tongue could.


End file.
